An Egyptian Princess, Volume 9.

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AN EGYPTIAN PRINCESS, Part 2.

By Georg Ebers

Volume 9.

CHAPTER XI.

According to the law of Egypt, Zopyrus had deserved death.

As soon as his friends heard this, they resolved to go to Sais and try to
rescue him by stratagem. Syloson, who had friends there and could speak
the Egyptian language well, offered to help them.

Bartja and Darius disguised themselves so completely by dyeing their hair
and eyebrows and wearing broad-brimmed felt-hats,--that they could
scarcely recognize each other. Theopompus provided them with ordinary
Greek dresses, and, an hour after Zopyrus' arrest, they met the
splendidly-got-up Syloson on the shore of the Nile, entered a boat
belonging to him and manned by his slaves, and, after a short sail,
favored by the wind, reached Sais,--which lay above the waters of the
inundation like an island,--before the burning midsummer sun had reached
its noonday height.

They disembarked at a remote part of the town and walked across the
quarter appropriated to the artisans. The workmen were busy at their
calling, notwithstanding the intense noonday heat. The baker's men were
at work in the open court of the bakehouse, kneading bread--the coarser
kind of dough with the feet, the finer with the hands. Loaves of various
shapes were being drawn out of the ovens-round and oval cakes, and rolls
in the form of sheep, snails and hearts. These were laid in baskets, and
the nimble baker's boys would put three, four, or even five such baskets
on their heads at once, and carry them off quickly and safely to the
customers living in other quarters of the city. A butcher was
slaughtering an ox before his house, the creature's legs having been
pinioned; and his men were busy sharpening their knives to cut up a wild
goat. Merry cobblers were calling out to the passers-by from their
stalls; carpenters, tailors, joiners and weavers--were all there, busy at
their various callings. The wives of the work-people were going out
marketing, leading their naked children by the hand, and some soldiers
were loitering near a man who was offering beer and wine for sale.

But our friends took very little notice of what was going on in the
streets through which they passed; they followed Syloson in silence.

At the Greek guard-house he asked them to wait for him. Syloson,
happening to know the Taxiarch who was on duty that day, went in and
asked him if he had heard anything of a man accused of murder having been
brought from Naukratis to Sais that morning.

"Of course," said the Greek. "It's not more than half an hour since he
arrived. As they found a purse full of money in his girdle, they think
he must be a Persian spy. I suppose you know that Cambyses is preparing
for war with Egypt."

"Impossible!"

"No, no, it's a fact. The prince-regent has already received
information. A caravan of Arabian merchants arrived yesterday at
Pelusium, and brought the news."

"It will prove as false as their suspicions about this poor young Lydian.
I know him well, and am very sorry for the poor fellow. He belongs to
one of the richest families in Sardis, and only ran away for fear of the
powerful satrap Oroetes, with whom he had had a quarrel. I'll tell you
the particulars when you come to see me next in Naukratis. Of course
you'll stay a few days and bring some friends. My brother has sent me
some wine which beats everything I ever tasted. It's perfect nectar, and
I confess I grudge offering it to any one who's not, like you, a perfect
judge in such matters." The Taxiarch's face brightened up at these
words, and grasping Syloson's hand, he exclaimed. "By the dog, my
friend, we shall not wait to be asked twice; we'll come soon enough and
take a good pull at your wine-skins. How would it be if you were to ask
Archidice, the three flower-sisters, and a few flute-playing-girls to
supper?"

[Archidice--A celebrated Hetaira of Naukratis mentioned by Herod.
II. 135. Flute-playing girls were seldom missing at the young
Greeks' drinking-parties]

"They shall all be there. By the bye, that reminds me that the flower-
girls were the cause of that poor young Lydian's imprisonment. Some
jealous idiot attacked him before their house with a number of comrades.
The hot-brained young fellow defended himself . . . ."

"And knocked the other down?"

"Yes; and so that he'll never get up again."

"The boy must be a good boxer."

"He had a sword."

"So much the better for him."

"No, so much the worse; for his victim was an Egyptian."

"That's a bad job. I fear it can only have an unfortunate end. A
foreigner, who kills an Egyptian, is as sure of death as if he had the
rope already round his neck. However, just now he'll get a few days'
grace; the priests are all so busy praying for the dying king that they
have no time to try criminals."

"I'd give a great deal to be able to save that poor fellow. I know his
father."

"Yes, and then after all he only did his duty. A man must defend
himself."

"Do you happen to know where he is imprisoned?"

"Of course I do. The great prison is under repair, and so he has been
put for the present in the storehouse between the principal guard-house
of the Egyptian body-guard and the sacred grove of the temple of Neith.
I have only just come home from seeing them take him there."

"He is strong and has plenty of courage; do you think he could get away,
if we helped him?"

"No, it would be quite impossible; he's in a room two stories high; the
only window looks into the sacred grove, and that, you know, is
surrounded by a ten-foot wall, and guarded like the treasury. There are
double sentries at every gate. There's only one place where it is left
unguarded during the inundation season, because, just here, the water
washes the walls. These worshippers of animals are as cautious as water-
wagtails."

"Well, it's a great pity, but I suppose we must leave the poor fellow
to his fate. Good-bye, Doemones; don't forget my invitation."

The Samian left the guard-room and went back directly to the two friends,
who were waiting impatiently for him.

They listened eagerly to his tidings, and when he had finished his
description of the prison, Darius exclaimed: "I believe a little courage
will save him. He's as nimble as a cat, and as strong as a bear. I have
thought of a plan."

"Let us hear it," said Syloson, "and let me give an opinion as to its
practicability."

"We will buy some rope-ladders, some cord, and a good bow, put all these
into our boat, and row to the unguarded part of the temple-wall at dusk.
You must then help me to clamber over it. I shall take the things over
with me and give the eagle's cry. Zopyras will know at once, because,
since we were children, we have been accustomed to use it when we were
riding or hunting together. Then I shall shoot an arrow, with the cord
fastened to it, up into his window, (I never miss), tell him to fasten a
weight to it and let it down again to me. I shall then secure the rope-
ladder to the cord, Zopyrus will draw the whole affair up again, and hang
it on an iron nail,--which, by the bye, I must not forget to send up with
the ladder, for who knows whether he may have such a thing in his cell.
He will then come down on it, go quickly with me to the part of the wall
where you will be waiting with the boat, and where there must be another
rope-ladder, spring into the boat, and there he is-safe!"

"First-rate, first-rate!" cried Bartja.

"But very dangerous," added Syloson. "If we are caught in the sacred
grove, we are certain to be severely punished. The priests hold strange
nightly festivals there, at which every one but the initiated is strictly
forbidden to appear. I believe, however, that these take place on the
lake, and that is at some distance from Zopyrus' prison."

"So much the better," cried Darius; "but now to the main point. We must
send at once, and ask Theopompus to hire a fast trireme for us, and have
it put in sailing order at once. The news of Cambyses' preparations have
already reached Egypt; they take us for spies, and will be sure not to
let either Zopyrus or his deliverers escape, if they can help it. It
would be a criminal rashness to expose ourselves uselessly to danger.
Bartja, you must take this message yourself, and must marry Sappho this
very day, for, come what may, we must leave Naukratis to-morrow. Don't
contradict me, my friend, my brother! You know our plan, and you must
see that as only one can act in it, your part would be that of a mere
looker-on. As it was my own idea I am determined to carry it out myself.
We shall meet again to-morrow, for Auramazda protects the friendship of
the pure."

It was a long time before they could persuade Bartja to leave his friends
in the lurch, but their entreaties and representations at last took
effect, and he went down towards the river to take a boat for Naukratis,
Darius and Syloson going at the same time to buy the necessary implements
for their plan.

In order to reach the place where boats were to be hired, Bartja had to
pass by the temple of Neith. This was not easy, as an immense crowd was
assembled at the entrance-gates. He pushed his way as far as the
obelisks near the great gate of the temple with its winged sun-disc and
fluttering pennons, but there the temple-servants prevented him from
going farther; they were keeping the avenue of sphinxes clear for a
procession. The gigantic doors of the Pylon opened, and Bartja, who, in
spite of himself, had been pushed into the front row, saw a brilliant
procession come out of the temple. The unexpected sight of many faces he
had formerly known occupied his attention so much, that he scarcely
noticed the loss of his broad-brimmed hat, which had been knocked off in
the crowd. From the conversation of two Ionian mercenaries behind him he
learnt that the family of Amasis had been to the temple to pray for the
dying king.

The procession was headed by richly-decorated priests, either wearing
long white robes or pantherskins. They were followed by men holding
office at the court, and carrying golden staves, on the ends of which
peacocks' feathers and silver lotus-flowers were fastened, and these by
Pastophori, carrying on their shoulders a golden cow, the animal sacred
to Isis. When the crowd had bowed down before this sacred symbol, the
queen appeared. She was dressed in priestly robes and wore a costly
head-dress with the winged disc and the Uraeus. In her left hand she
held a sacred golden sistrum, the tones of which were to scare away
Typhon, and in her right some lotus-flowers. The wife, daughter and
sister of the high-priest followed her, in similar but less splendid
ornaments. Then came the heir to the throne, in rich robes of state, as
priest and prince; and behind him four young priests in white carrying
Tachot, (the daughter of Amasis and Ladice and the pretended sister of
Nitetis,) in an open litter. The heat of the day, and the earnestness of
her prayers, had given the sick girl a slight color. Her blue eyes,
filled with tears, were fixed on the sistrum which her weak, emaciated
hands had hardly strength to hold.

A murmur of compassion ran through the crowd; for they loved their dying
king, and manifested openly and gladly the sympathy so usually felt for
young lives from whom a brilliant future has been snatched by disease.
Such was Amasis' young, fading daughter, who was now being carried past
them, and many an eye grew dim as the beautiful invalid came in sight.
Tachot seemed to notice this, for she raised her eyes from the sistrum
and looked kindly and gratefully at the crowd. Suddenly the color left
her face, she turned deadly pale, and the golden sistrum fell on to the
stone pavement with a clang, close to Bartja's feet. He felt that he had
been recognized and for one moment thought of hiding himself in the
crowd; but only for one moment--his chivalrous feeling gained the day, he
darted forward, picked up the sistrum, and forgetting the danger in which
he was placing himself, held it out to the princess.

Tachot looked at him earnestly before taking the golden sistrum from his
hands, and then said, in a low voice, which only he could understand:
"Are you Bartja? Tell me, in your mother's name--are you Bartja?"

"Yes, I am," was his answer, in a voice as low as her own, "your friend,
Bartja."

He could not say more, for the priests pushed him back among the crowd.
When he was in his old place, he noticed that Tachot, whose bearers had
begun to move on again, was looking round at him. The color had come
back into her cheeks, and her bright eyes were trying to meet his. He
did not avoid them; she threw him a lotus-bud-he stooped to pick it up,
and then broke his way through the crowd, for this hasty act had roused
their attention.

A quarter of an hour later, he was seated in the boat which was to take
him to Sappho and to his wedding. He was quite at ease now about
Zopyrus. In Bartja's eyes his friend was already as good as saved, and
in spite of the dangers which threatened himself, he felt strangely calm
and happy, he could hardly say why.

Meanwhile the sick princess had been carried home, had had her oppressive
ornaments taken off, and her couch carried on to one of the palace-
balconies where she liked best to pass the hot summer days, sheltered by
broad-leaved plants, and a kind of awning.

From this veranda, she could look down into the great fore-court of the
palace, which was planted with trees. To-day it was full of priests,
courtiers, generals and governors of provinces. Anxiety and suspense
were expressed in every face: Amasis' last hour was drawing very near.

Tachot could not be seen from below; but listening with feverish
eagerness, she could hear much that was said. Now that they had to dread
the loss of their king, every one, even the priests, were full of his
praises. The wisdom and circumspection of his plans and modes of
government, his unwearied industry, the moderation he had always shown,
the keenness of his wit, were, each and all, subjects of admiration.
"How Egypt has prospered under Amasis' government!" said a Nomarch.
"And what glory he gained for our arms, by the conquest of Cyprus and the
war with the Libyans!" cried one of the generals. "How magnificently he
embellished our temples, and what great honors he paid to the goddess of
Sais!" exclaimed one of the singers of Neith. "And then how gracious
and condescending he was!" murmured a courtier. "How cleverly he
managed to keep peace with the great powers!" said the secretary of
state, and the treasurer, wiping away a tear, cried: "How thoroughly he
understood the management of the revenue! Since the reign of Rameses
III. the treasury has not been so well filled as now." "Psamtik comes
into a fine inheritance," lisped the courtier, and the soldier exclaimed,
"Yes, but it's to be feared that he'll not spend it in a glorious war;
he's too much under the influence of the priests." "No, you are wrong
there," answered the temple-singer. "For some time past, our lord and
master has seemed to disdain the advice of his most faithful servants."
"The successor of such a father will find it difficult to secure
universal approbation," said the Nomarch. "It is not every one who has
the intellect, the good fortune and the wisdom of Amasis." "The gods
know that!" murmured the warrior with a sigh.

Tachot's tears flowed fast. These words were a confirmation of what they
had been trying to hide from her: she was to lose her dear father soon.

After she had made this dreadful certainty clear to her own mind, and
discovered that it was in vain to beg her attendants to carry her to her
dying father, she left off listening to the courtiers below, and began
looking at the sistrum which Bartja himself had put into her hand, and
which she had brought on to the balcony with her, as if seeking comfort
there. And she found what she sought; for it seemed to her as if the
sound of its sacred rings bore her away into a smiling, sunny landscape.

That faintness which so often comes over people in decline, had seized
her and was sweetening her last hours with pleasant dreams.

The female slaves, who stood round to fan away the flies, said afterwards
that Tachot had never looked so lovely.

She had lain about an hour in this state, when her breathing became more
difficult, a slight cough made her breast heave, and the bright red blood
trickled down from her lips on to her white robe. She awoke, and looked
surprised and disappointed on seeing the faces round her. The sight of
her mother, however, who came on to the veranda at that moment, brought a
smile to her face, and she said, "O mother, I have had such a beautiful
dream."

"Then our visit to the temple has done my dear child good?" asked the
queen, trembling at the sight of the blood on the sick girl's lips.

"Oh, yes, mother, so much! for I saw him again." Ladice's glance at the
attendants seemed to ask "Has your poor mistress lost her senses?"
Tachot understood the look and said, evidently speaking with great
difficulty: "You think I am wandering, mother. No, indeed, I really saw
and spoke to him. He gave me my sistrum again, and said he was my
friend, and then he took my lotus-bud and vanished. Don't look so
distressed and surprised, mother. What I say is really true; it is no
dream.--There, you hear, Tentrut saw him too. He must have come to Sais
for my sake, and so the child-oracle in the temple-court did not deceive
me, after all. And now I don't feel anything more of my illness; I
dreamt I was lying in a field of blooming poppies, as red as the blood of
the young lambs that are offered in sacrifice; Bartja was sitting by my
side, and Nitetis was kneeling close to us and playing wonderful songs on
a Nabla made of ivory. And there was such a lovely sound in the air
that I felt as if Horus, the beautiful god of morning, spring, and the
resurrection, was kissing me. Yes, mother, I tell you he is coming soon,
and when I am well, then--then--ah, mother what is this? . . . I am
dying!"

Ladice knelt down by her child's bed and pressed her lips in burning
kisses on the girl's eyes as they grew dim in death.

An hour later she was standing by another bedside--her dying husband's.

Severe suffering had disfigured the king's features, the cold
perspiration was standing on his forehead, and his hands grasped the
golden lions on the arms of the deep-seated invalid chair in which he was
resting, almost convulsively.

When Ladice came in he opened his eyes; they were as keen and intelligent
as if he had never lost his sight.

"Why do not you bring Tachot to me?" he asked in a dry voice.

"She is too ill, and suffers so much, that . . ."

"She is dead! Then it is well with her, for death is not punishment; it
is the end and aim of life,--the only end that we can attain without
effort, but through sufferings!--the gods alone know how great. Osiris
has taken her to himself, for she was innocent. And Nitetis is dead too.
Where is Nebenchari's letter?"

"Here is the place: 'She took her own life, and died calling down a heavy
curse on thee and thine. The poor, exiled, scorned and plundered oculist
Nebenchari in Babylon sends thee this intelligence to Egypt. It is as
true as his own hatred of thee.' Listen to these words, Psamtik, and
remember how on his dying bed thy father told thee that, for every drachm
of pleasure purchased on earth by wrong-doing, the dying bed will be
burdened by a talent's weight of remorse. Fearful misery is coming on
Egypt for Nitetis' sake. Cambyses is preparing to make war on us. He
will sweep down on Egypt like a scorching wind from the desert. Much,
which I have staked my nightly sleep and the very marrow of my existence
to bring into existence, will be annihilated. Still I have not lived in
vain. For forty years I have been the careful father and benefactor of a
great nation. Children and children's children will speak of Amasis as a
great, wise and humane king; they will read my name on the great works
which I have built in Sais and Thebes, and will praise the greatness of
my power. Neither shall I be condemned by Osiris and the forty-two
judges of the nether world; the goddess of truth, who holds the balances,
will find that my good deeds outweigh my bad."--Here the king sighed
deeply and remained silent for some time. Then, looking tenderly at his
wife, he said: "Ladice, thou hast been a faithful, virtuous wife to me.
For this I thank thee, and ask thy forgiveness for much. We have often
misunderstood one another. Indeed it was easier for me to accustom
myself to the Greek modes of thought, than for a Greek to understand our
Egyptian ideas. Thou know'st my love of Greek art,--thou know'st how I
enjoyed the society of thy friend Pythagoras, who was thoroughly
initiated in all that we believe and know, and adopted much from us. He
comprehended the deep wisdom which lies in the doctrines that I reverence
most, and he took care not to speak lightly of truths which our priests
are perhaps too careful to hide from the people; for though the many bow
down before that which they cannot understand, they would be raised and
upheld by those very truths, if explained to them. To a Greek mind our
worship of animals presents the greatest difficulty, but to my own the
worship of the Creator in his creatures seems more just and more worthy
of a human being, than the worship of his likeness in stone. The Greek
deities are moreover subject to every human infirmity; indeed I should
have made my queen very unhappy by living in the same manner as her great
god Zeus."

At these words the king smiled, and then went on: "And what has given
rise to this? The Hellenic love of beauty in form, which, in the eye of
a Greek, is superior to every thing else. He cannot separate the body
from the soul, because he holds it to be the most glorious of formed
things, and indeed, believes that a beautiful spirit must necessarily
inhabit a beautiful body. Their gods, therefore, are only elevated human
beings, but we adore an unseen power working in nature and in ourselves.
The animal takes its place between ourselves and nature; its actions are
guided, not, like our own, by the letter, but by the eternal laws of
nature, which owe their origin to the Deity, while the letter is a
device of man's own mind. And then, too, where amongst ourselves do we
find so earnest a longing and endeavor to gain freedom, the highest good,
as among the animals? Where such a regular and well-balanced life from
generation to generation, without instruction or precept?"

Here the king's voice failed. He was obliged to pause for a few moments,
and then continued: "I know that my end is near; therefore enough of
these matters. My son and successor, hear my last wishes and act upon
them; they are the result of experience. But alas! how often have I
seen, that rules of life given by one man to another are useless. Every
man must earn his own experience. His own losses make him prudent, his
own learning wise. Thou, my son, art coming to the throne at a mature
age; thou hast had time and opportunity to judge between right and wrong,
to note what is beneficial and what hurtful, to see and compare many
things. I give thee, therefore, only a few wholesome counsels, and only
fear that though I offer them with my right hand, thou wilt accept them
with the left.

"First, however, I must say that, notwithstanding my blindness, my
indifference to what has been going on during the past months has been
only apparent. I left you to your own devices with a good intention.
Rhodopis told me once one of her teacher AEsop's fables: 'A traveller,
meeting a man on his road, asked him how long it would be before he
reached the nearest town.' 'Go on, go on,' cried the other. 'But I want
to know first when I shall get to the town.' 'Go on, only go on,' was
the answer. The traveller left him with angry words and abuse; but he
had not gone many steps when the man called after him: 'You will be there
in an hour. I could not answer your question until I had seen your
pace.'

"I bore this fable in my mind for my son's sake, and watched in silence
at what pace he was ruling his people. Now I have discovered what I wish
to know, and this is my advice: Examine into everything your self. It is
the duty of every man, but especially of a king, to acquaint himself
intimately with all that concerns the weal or woe of his people. You, my
son, are in the habit of using the eyes and ears of other men instead of
going to the fountain-head yourself. I am sure that your advisers, the
priests, only desire what is good; but . . . Neithotep, I must beg you
to leave us alone for a few moments."

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